A Hackwith - The Library of the Unwritten

Claire paused, as if losing her footing. “To put the Library above the realm—”

“What about Earth?”

“What?”

“Think,” Andras snapped. “Even if the greedy lot can pull their tails out of their arses long enough to follow the trail and do the job, where do you think this will be settled?”

Andras scrutinized Claire for a response. She stilled, flicking a concerned glance toward Leto. Andras looked as if he’d scored a point. “Do you see now why reporting this is foolhardy?”

Leto saw Claire’s chin rise almost imperceptibly, the stubborn steel that he’d begun to recognize as the librarian’s will coming to bear. “To the courts, perhaps, but if we approached this as a private matter with him…”

“The Purge.”

Claire stopped. “That was an entirely different scenario.”

“The what?” Leto felt his confusion had reached a breaking point.

“A… tragedy in Hell’s history.” Claire scowled at Andras. “A fool librarian challenged Lucifer for dominion of the Library. Tried to claim independence and lost. She… Well, the books were preserved, but the entire Library was remade, sealed. It spurred a line of book burnings on Earth—if you’ve ever heard of the Library of Alexandria, she was born of that time. I suppose he wanted to punish her where it hurt. The muses were in an uproar. It was chaos until the Library had a proper librarian again. Tragic but beside the point, because we are not challenging anyone.”

“Test it if you wish.” Andras gave a soft shrug. “But our fool king went to quite a lot of trouble to keep the codex out of Hell the first time around. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s eliminated his own people to protect a secret. I’d rather not go through that again.”

Claire’s fingers worked a silent calculation, twitching around the bag in her grasp. “Suppose we don’t seek Lucifer’s sanction on it. It’s still an arcane object, presumably on Earth, and a danger to humanity as well as the rest of us. That’s your responsibility to act.”

Andras’s smile eased. “It can’t be ignored. You were right about that. I would be happy to chase this artifact and return it to Hell before it can do more damage. But the last time this book was hunted, the Library did it together, Arcane and Unwritten. Why is that? I wonder.”

Claire narrowed her eyes. “We have a dispensation when books are lost, yes. But this isn’t one of mine, and I’m not a demon. I can’t do this unsanctioned. We just returned the only book—”

“Returned with how much time still on your ghostlight?”

“Most of a day but… Oh. No. You can’t be serious.” Leto briefly wondered how the Arcanist had kept such close tabs on today’s events, or if it was public knowledge. Claire voiced the larger problem. “We would still need Walter’s help to travel.”

Andras tapped his lip. “Walter holds transport to the mortal realms, but where would you start looking for the Devil’s Bible, Librarian?”

“I would…” Claire hesitated as she appeared to give the question the full measure of her attention. “The angel found us in Seattle, but I suspect that’s because he was chasing any demonic activity. He seemed surprised to find us. That means his leads ran out. No, the pages might be on Earth, but we would have to start with information on how they went missing. You say Bjorn the Bard was the librarian who retrieved it, but…”

Both Claire and Andras went silent, and Leto lost his patience. “But what?”

“Bjorn’s not a librarian anymore. Not even in Hell. He did his time in the Library, and his soul found rest. And he was of the old beliefs, so…” Claire raised her brows at Andras. “If we wanted to talk to Bjorn, we would have to find him… in Valhalla?”

“In Valhalla.”

“Ravens?” Claire was curious.

“Ravens.” Andras was certain.

“Ravens?” Leto was confused.

An unsettling smile, sharp and resigned, tugged at Claire’s mouth. “I thought you were retired from the game, Arcanist.”

Andras chuckled. “I can be induced, for a good cause and a lovely face.”

Claire ignored the flattery. “And to sate your curiosity about a secret, I imagine.”

“Well, now, that would just be a bonus for an old man’s entertainment, pup.”

Claire glanced once at Leto, and he gave her what he hoped was a nod of support. She sighed. “Where do we start?”

“With the raven road, of course,” Andras said.

A BRIEF ARGUMENT ENSUED, which was settled only when Claire invoked some obscure rule of conduct that Leto had never heard of. Andras threw up his hands and disappeared back into the cluttered shadows of his wing, and Claire resumed her atrociously fast stride up the stairs the way they’d come. Leto found himself winded by the third flight. Librarians were exhausting.

“Miss Librarian? What’s happening now?”

“We’ve drowned together, Leto. You can call me Claire.”

“What’s happening now, Claire?”

“I believe”—Claire gave the gargoyle a pat as they rounded the corner into the familiar maze of halls that led to the Unwritten Wing—“now I am about to become a very bad role model for you. If you really are a demon, this is the point where you should probably be running off to tattle on us.”

Leto reached up to rub the point of one ear. “I don’t think I want to tattle after what Andras said.”

“Me neither, unfortunately,” Claire said with a sigh.

Leto considered the Arcanist and fought back his unease about being around another demon. “You said he was a… a duke?”

“Was. Once.” Claire gave a tight-lipped smile. “Before I knew him, he was a high duke in Hell’s court. Very highly respected, commanded legions, and was Lucifer’s right hand. Demon of Confessions, I think. He was ousted in a political coup more than a hundred years ago. Demons love nothing more than their political games; never stand between a demon and a rise to power.”

“Isn’t that where you said the Library is now?”

Claire made a face. “Yes. Aren’t you a fast learner? In any case, Andras survived but withdrew from the court to lick his wounds. He eventually took over the role of curator for the Arcane Wing. He’s a demon, yes, but retired from the court. He’s always been a supporter of the Library. He… ah, he helped me out a good deal when I was a new librarian. He taught me a lot.”

A memory, a pain, a regret, all flicked over Claire’s face, too rapid-fire for Leto to comment on. He stared at his hands. One claw had a hangnail. He worried at it. “But I still don’t know what I’m supposed to—I mean, you said we’re going to go after this thing?”

Claire slowed so suddenly that Leto nearly ran into her back. She cast a glance toward the Library entrance, then pulled him to one side. “This isn’t like fetching the hero’s book, Leto. This is going to get… complicated.”

“I had a feeling.”

“I’ll be doing something which may upset the rest of Hell. The Library’s always been a bit separate….”

“I understand.”

“But you’re not part of the Library.” Leto’s face fell, and Claire closed her eyes briefly. “I mean, you’re welcome here, but you don’t have to be part of this. It’s going to be dangerous. Even if we manage to accomplish what we intend, when we get back, we’ll be… You should leave while you can.”

“Where do I go?” The question sounded more pitiful than Leto had intended, but it was out of his mouth before he could think. Panic began to edge its way up the back of his throat, and he tried to envision what leaving the Library meant. His first real memory of this place was of being a demon messenger sent to Claire’s desk. Everything before that was… darkness, fear, self-loathing. A coil of despairing acid in his throat. He’d rather do anything than that.